


Mairon's Lament

by ceruleanshark



Series: Dark Lords of Arda [15]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Goodbyes, Hurt No Comfort, I am so sorry, M/M, Well not onscreen but I'm counting it, buckle up this is gonna hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanshark/pseuds/ceruleanshark
Summary: Ancalagon falls, and Mairon and Melkor say their last farewells.





	Mairon's Lament

**Author's Note:**

  * For [modsenga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/modsenga/gifts), [cataclysmofstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cataclysmofstars/gifts).



> Oh Eru I'm so sorry

  Mairon swept into the throne room, gloved fists balled at his sides and armored boots clanking against the stone floor. The massive doors swung ponderously shut behind him, the boom echoing in the carven hall. Melkor raised his head and gazed down at the fast-approaching Maia.

 

 “Master, they will be here soon. Ancalagon has fallen, and the towers are destroyed. What are your orders?” Mairon was shaking, fists clenched. Blood--thankfully not his own--was smeared across his armor and face.

 

 Melkor stood up from his throne, robes rippling darkly behind him. His eyes were dark and piercing as he looked down at Mairon, walking down the steps of the dais.

 

“Come here, Mairon.” Melkor held out one hand, and he grasped it with shaking fingers. Melkor closed his eyes and drew Mairon close. The throne room dissolved around them.

 

 When the world came crashing back in, they were standing in the chambers they had shared for so long. Mairon raised his head from Melkor's chest and looked around in surprise. 

 

 “My lord?” Mairon asked, head tilted. Melkor silenced him by pressing their lips together for a swift kiss. 

 

 “If this is to be our last stand, I want to leave with the memory of you fresh in my mind.” Melkor breathed, lovingly wrapping Mairon’s fëa in his own.

 

 “We can escape together. Run away with me.” Mairon pleaded. Fire rippled just under his skin, form flashing with light in his distress.

 

 “We would not be swift enough to make an escape. We need more time, precious. You know that in your heart.” He kissed Mairon's forehead. He clung to the Maia, savoring the feeling of their fëar intimately entwined.

 

“The Valar are coming. If they catch you, you know what they will do.” Mairon’s fingers curled into the dragon-scale cloak his master wore, crafted carefully from the shed scales of his hatchling dragons. “I do not want to lose you to the void.”

 

 “You are my lieutenant, my Maia. I cannot let them do the same to you. You have been the light of my life since first we spoke.” Melkor took a shaky breath and slipped his hand down to his hip, unnoticed by Mairon.

 

 “Please let me stay by your side. To be alone would be torture.” Caught up in the pain of the moment, Mairon didn't see Melkor slip the gold band from his finger. Memories of the day he and Mairon had merged their magic to craft it came unbidden to his mind.

 

 Their songs has merged, energy humming through the air, making beauty out of dust. Mairon had kissed him, breathless and exhilarated, when the ring had formed itself and drifted down to rest in Melkor's palm.

 

 Melkor squeezed his eyes shut to clear away the haze of memories. He brought the gleaming ring to the side pocket of Mairon's armor and slipped it in.

 

 “Oh, my love, you are not alone. You will never again be alone. I will be with you in all you do.” Melkor breathed the reassurance, stroking the tight coil of Mairon's braid.

 

“They will take you from this world.” Mairon hissed, face buried in his lord's shoulder. Melkor shivered with the sudden chill sweeping through the room. Distant voices and presences made themselves known, making the hair stand up on the back of his neck with dread.

 

 “As long as you remember me, I will never truly leave.” Melkor pressed a lingering kiss to Mairon's forehead. “Swear to me that you will not forget.”

 

 “If we run now, they cannot take us--” Melkor's eyes flared with hurt and love, making Mairon stutter and trail off. “These are my last orders to you, my precious. Heed them, I beg of you.” He held him tightly, the voices louder and closer with each frantic beat of his heart. Valarin war cries echoed through the corridors of Angband.

 

 “I will not forget. The world will not forget.” Mairon swore, looking up at Melkor. His expression was grave despite the love in his eyes.

 

 “Thank you.” Melkor kissed him, slow and deep, the way they had under the stars in those long-past times when the world had seemed bigger and their troubles had seemed smaller.

 

 When they broke apart, Mairon tensed. He too had clearly noticed the approaching host. His eyes filled with fear. “I love you, Melkor. Be strong for me. I will free you one day.”

 

“I love you too, little flame. Now go.” The words had hardly left him before the door burst from its hinges and a lone Maia sprinted into the royal chambers. The intruder was easily recognizable as Eonwë, his eyes burning with blue flame and spear shining bright even in the dimly lit room.

 

 “The hour of your reckoning has come, Morgoth!” Eonwë called, leaping forward towards the still-embracing pair. The point of his spear descended swiftly, but the lords of Angband saw it as if it was moving through molasses. Mairon twitched in Melkor's arms, and in that moment the Vala realized what Mairon's next move would be.

 

 It took all of Melkor's near-limitless strength to catch Mairon in time, stopping him from throwing himself in front of the gleaming spear. 

 

 He shoved his Maia to the side, sending him reeling off-balance as the tip of the cruel weapon slammed into his chest, nearly punching a hole in his breastplate. He fell backwards, tucking his chin to stop his head from hitting the stone floor. His crown fell away, rolling across the floor with the grate of metal on rock. The light of the Silmarils seemed to fade.

 

  Mairon’s scream of his name seemed distant, distorted, as though heard through a layer of water.

 

 Eonwë was on him in seconds. Melkor grasped the shaft of the spear, just under the tip, in an attempt to avoid being stabbed again. “Mairon, go!” Melkor roared, trying to keep the panic out of his voice and failing.

 

 Mairon was frozen by the sight of his lover’s weakness. He started towards his fellow Maia, drawing the long dagger from his belt as he moved. With a fluid motion, he threw it towards the tiny chink in the metallic plating at Eonwë’s neck.

 

 It took all of Melkor's near-limitless strength to force Mairon’s form to dissolve into smoke, and not just because of the magical toll.

 

 Even as his Maia vanished, teleported down into the tunnels below Angband, his dagger lodged itself into Eonwë’s flesh with a shallow  _ thud _ . With a cry, he toppled off the Vala and his spear clattered to the stones beside him. Silvery blood trickled from his wound, bubbling up around the slender blade.

 

 Before either Ainu could stand once more, a horde of warriors forced their way through the narrow doorway. The pair were surrounded in seconds. 

 

 A rough hand curled about the base of Melkor's neck and hauled him to his feet. Teeth gritted defiantly, he turned and met the ice-blue eyes of the man holding him.

 

 Forcing an arrogant smile despite the blood trickling from his mouth, he cocked his head cheekily. “Hello, Manwë.”

  
  


~~~~

  
  


The silence in the dark catacombs was shattered by the sound of dozens of footsteps echoing off the rough-hewn walls. Mairon headed the group of orcs and Umaiar, his boots splashing in the small puddles from natural water flows. 

 

“I can't believe he's gone.” One of Mairon's orc commanders--he didn't look to see who--fell in beside him.

 

 “He fell defending me. If I had tried harder, he could be here now. With us.” The lump in his throat seemed to be growing by the second. The commander awkwardly patted his arm. “I'm sure there was nothing you could do. Nothing any of us could have done.” She assured him.

 

 He sighed and made to turn away, but a slight clink from his side pocket caught his ear. He slipped his hand into the pouch and froze when his fingers touched cool metal.

 

 He drew out the band of gold, and the  _ look _ in his eyes told the commander all she needed to know.

 

“I am so sorry.” She whispered, falling back from his side like smoke on the wind. Leaving him to his grief would be for the best. He could be as volatile as the fire and volcanoes he treasured when he was upset.

 

 Mairon just turned his focus to the darkness ahead. They continued on through miles of catacombs for what seemed like an eternity, the only sound that of mutters of grief and the hurried steps of many denizens of Angband.

 

 But as the tunnels sloped up and led the company to the door (cleverly concealed amongst the jumbled boulders of a steep slope), another sound arose.

 

 Mairon, driven by a primal urge even he did not fully understand, had begun to sing. 

 

 The last rays of the sun shimmered through the haze of the air, casting distinct shadows from every rock or spindly tree or blade of grass. Black smoke and sparks of flame billowed through the sky, a stark reminder of what had been lost that day.

 

 And through it all Mairon's voice floated, weaving into a lament as old as time itself. His song mixed with Melkor's song and folded into a ballad of sorrow, of raw emotion, of love lost.

 

 The music was somewhere between magical and mundane, and it tore at the very hearts of all who heard it. With it came a promise.

 

_ None shall forget him. I shall do all I do in his name. I shall carry on his mission, and one day he shall return to this world in all his splendor.  _

 

_ This I swear. _

 

Mairon's lament echoed from each hill, every valley, up to the vast dome of the sky, and there it would linger forevermore.

**Author's Note:**

> This will take the place of "Parting" in DLoA. Parting will remain up, but as its own thing.


End file.
